SG4: The Space Between
by EA Thomas
Summary: SG4 has finally broken the ice, but will their next trip through the gate divide more than their loyalties?
1. Chapter 1

**(To the readers: I tried to make section breaks, but the format won't let me. So when you see a sentence ending in "..." that is the section breaker--it's the best I could do without breaking this into very small chapters. My appologies. Hope you enjoy!)**

**SG-4: The Space Between**

Chapter One

The punching bag swung slowly in front of Doctor Martin as she slumped her shoulders and let her hands fall to her sides. Martin sighed. It had been two weeks since she had been released from the infirmary and this was the latest activity in Tiller's rehab program for her. He was trying to help, that's why she hadn't said anything. But this little boxing exercise had been the longest ten minutes of her life and after all the coaching from Tiller the bag was still barely swinging from her last punch.

_Can this get any worse?_ Martin grumbled.

Tiller ignored her and pulled her gloved hand back up to meet the bag. "Come on, don't get frustrated. You're doing fine," he said, as Martin pulled her hand away and slumped onto the bench along the wall.

"I think I should just stick with my microscopes and transphonic-inducers."

Not even attempting to translate her choice of words, Tiller stooped in front of Martin and pulled her gloved hands into his. "This is your first time Doc, don't get mad just cause you can't throw it like Ali."

Martin's eyes rolled and she pulled the gloves from her hands. This isn't what she needed. Pleading silently, Martin's puppy dog eyes met Tiller's and he gave in.

"Alright," Tiller said, pulling at the Velcro tabs on the gloves. "I'll let you quit this time. We need to get geared up anyway," he said, pulling the gloves free as Martin wiped her sweaty hands on her shorts.

Walking around him, Martin was quickly heading for the door when Tiller called back out to her and stopped her in her tracks. "You know what time to be in the gate room right?"

"Zero-seven-thirty." Martin grumbled under her breath, _leave it to the damn Marines to train BEFORE an actual training mission._

"What was that?" Tiller asked, turning on his heels as Martin made a B-line for the hallway.

She froze in her tracks again and pursed her lips, _woops_…

"Yeah?" she asked, turning to meet the critical gaze coming from Tiller.

Pausing a moment, Tiller narrowed his eyes at her. She had a way of acting like a complete child sometimes and it made him want to…wrestle her. "Don't forget to ice your knuckles, they might bruise up." he said, turning back into the gym as he tossed the gloves into a _TO BE WASHED_ bin.

Doc nodded and turned back into the hall. There were times when it was all she could do to keep herself from knocking that man up-side the head.

Two hours and fifteen minutes later, the gate came to life before Martin and as the event horizon settled she felt a wave of nausea hit her.

"Don't worry Doc," Colonel Bedard said as he laid a hard hand on the back of her pack that made her take a step forward. "The MALP readings assure us that this is a monster free planet."

After getting her footing again, Doc turned and shot the Colonel a look as her mouth dropped open. He was making fun of her! But a second later, the exasperated look on her face faded. "Yes Sir, I feel better already."

Walking past her, Bedard tightened his hand around the grip of his weapon, "Let's get outta here," he said walking up the ramp with Connelly falling in behind him.

She watched the two men disappear into the watery puddle and Tiller walked to her side, ushering her up the ramp. "Ladies first," Tiller said.

With a gulp, Martin headed up the ramp as Tiller kept on her heels. She paused only a second before reaching out to touch the puddle, but it was long enough for Tiller to catch up to her and pulled her through by her pack—again.

A heartbeat later and Martin was standing in a large clearing surround by trees and rolling hills. Tiller moved around her, expecting her to follow him as usual as he walked down the path. But she was already captivated by her surroundings and was already taken with the trees in the distance that appeared to be dancing along the pale violet horizon that faded to white. It was the most beautiful sight she had ever seen.

Ten feet away, Colonel Bedard watched as Sergeant Tiller made his way down that path. But the sergeant stopped when his commanding officer motioned back to the gate—someone was missing.

Looking over his shoulder, Tiller spotted Doc staring off into space and shook his head as he headed back toward the gate. "Hey Doc!" he yelled, stopping a few feet short of where she stood with her back to him. But she didn't respond. "Doctor Martin!" he yelled louder, this time she spun around and ran down the path to him.

Tiller was still shaking his head as they walked toward Colonel Bedard and Lieutenant Connelly at the end of the path.

"Day dreaming is not in the training manual Doc, but it'll get you shot in record time," Tiller said under his breath as the Colonel's eyes narrowed at him. She was his responsibility after all.

Bedard decided not to comment any further and turned back to Connelly who was standing a few feet off as he watched for any signs of movement in the tree line.

"Alright, the MALP showed the ruins to be along the southern ridge line. Tiller, make sure you don't loose the good doctor this time. Check in on the hour, if we loose radio contact—meet back at the gate in five hours."

"Yes Sir," Tiller answered as he looked over at Doc. She cracked a small smile and pulled her cap from her pocket. Tiller turned and headed off toward the tree line. "Let's go Doc!" he called back.

Pulling the cap down over her head, Martin picked up the pace was almost at Tiller's side when he reached the tree line. Without a word, he held his arm out to stop her from going a head of him. "Stay behind me." He whispered, as he stepped into the trees.

Martin paused a moment and walked in after him, keeping her fingers resting on her Zat as the shadows of the forest enveloped them…

An hour later, Colonel Bedard hiked up the steep end of larger hill as Connelly walked a parallel path to his right. Bedard had counted three flowers that he had never seen before and thought for a moment to collect one or two for Doctor Martin—but the thought was quickly forgotten as his radio sparked to life.

"Colonel, this is Martin—come in?" Martin's voice broke through the signal. It was obvious that she was yelling into the radio receiver.

"Yes Doctor?" Bedard asked as he tried to force away the grin at the corner of his mouth.

"Just checking in Sir, me and Sergeant Tiller are uh—in the woods." Again, she yelled into the receiver and Bedard couldn't help but laugh, neither could Connelly.

"Find anything interesting, Doc?" Connelly asked as he cut in.

"No, just a lot of trees." She replied.

"Sergeant Tiller," Bedard cut in.

"Yes Sir?" Tiller replied.

"We're along the southern ridge about to breach the valley. We might loose contact. So keep your eye on the clock, four hours till we regroup at the gate."

"Yes, Sir. Tiller out."

A smirk from Connelly and Bedard started up the hill again. "You think she's going to grow into this?" Connelly asked.

"Give her time Connelly. She might surprise you." Bedard said as he reached the top of the hill and let his words drift off. The valley was small and as Connelly came to stop at his side, Bedard noticed a group of small castles nestled in the corner of the valley with trees surrounding them.

"I don't remember _that_ being on the MALP, Sir," Connelly said.

Bedard thought for a moment, "Neither do I," he said, sharing the in the lieutenant's misgivings. "Let's check it out," he said as he pulled out his radio. "Sergeant Tiller—come in." Only static came back on the frequency. Pushing the button again, Bedard spoke louder on the speaker as he pulled out his binoculars and scanned the distant tree line for Sergeant Tiller and Doctor Martin. "Tiller—Martin, come back—over." Again-- static.

Connelly could hear the growing concern in the colonel's voice and he spoke up. "Sir, these mountains could be—"

"Blocking the signal, I know," Bedard said, waiving him off as he shoved his binoculars back into his pocket and let his radio hang on his shoulder. "Alright, let's go see if anyone is home—we've got four hours till we meet up with Tiller and Martin at the gate."

**Chapter 19**

Martin pushed through a dense area of under brush that clung to her pack and tripped over the unrelenting weeds that clung to her sleeves and wound about her feet.

Her struggle went unnoticed by Tiller who stood a head of her in a small clearing that he insisted on investigating. As she continued to fight through the dense forest, he searched the area and waited for her to reach his side—he didn't have to watch her, she was making enough noise to attract any wild life in the vicinity.

Tiller had turned away from her and was about to investigate a suspicious shadow when the forest fell silent. Martin had reached the clearing.

"It's about time—" he said, turning around to an empty forest behind him. The small clearing gave him a short range of visibility through the forest, but she was nowhere to be found. "Doc?" he called out. She didn't answer and his heart began to beat faster. "DOC?" he called out louder as he searched for movement in the trees. "MARTIN?" He was yelling now and his voice echoed through the trees but his voice echoed in every direction with no reply except for the wind...

Gripping a nearby branch, Martin tripped through the underbrush and pulled her self into the clearing. But as she straightened, Martin looked up and realized that not only had the dark forest disappeared--she was now standing in the sunlight surrounded by a field of flowers. Turning around she tried not to hyperventilate as she searched around for the forest she had been standing in only seconds before. Her hands were trembling now and she wrung her hands together as she turn in a complete circle, "TILLER?" she screamed suddenly, almost startling her self with how loud she had screamed. But no answer came back and only one thought ran through her mind, _I am so screwed._

Turning again, Martin gasped as she stared wide-eyed at the valley that now lay before her. "What the hell?" she whispered, as a small cottage came into focus in the distance. She stared in amazement until fear gripped her. Where was this place? Where was Tiller? He had been right in front of her a moment before and now—nothing.

Slowly she took the cap from her head and tried to keep her breathing slow and steady. She turned away from the valley and the cottage, as though it didn't exist if she couldn't see it. She closed her eyes and ran her fingers through her hair. Opening her eyes again, she saw only the field around her until she turned back to the valley. There was nowhere to go but to the house.

A few shaky steps began her descent into the valley and she tried to think of anything but what was really happening. This is what she had dreaded, this was her worst fear…she was separated from her team and on her own—and she was about to make first contact with a people from another world.

But as she neared the cottage, her hands steadied and her shoulders relaxed. Her legs didn't feel as though they could collapse at any moment and her feet felt firm as she stepped onto the front porch of the cottage. It felt like home and suddenly…she was not afraid.

Smiling to her self, Martin let out a breath as she knocked on the door. This was now here near as bad as she thought it was going to be. Actually it was relatively easy…

The door creaked and Martin snapped to see an old woman appear in the doorway. She was feeble in her movements and her eyes squinted through the light as she tried to focus on the young girl standing in her door way.

Martin smiled warmly. "Hello." Uncertain but still hopeful that the woman spoke English. She waited until the woman responded.

The old woman paused a moment and looked into her eyes--in an instant all weakness left the woman's body as she reached out for Martin's hand and squeezed it. Smiling up to her she spoke, "Hello Frances, I've been waiting for you."

Tiller had checked his watch twice since he started looking for Martin but the numbers on his watch had yet to change. This was the least of his problems. Martin had disappeared into thin air and she wasn't answering his calls over the radio. He had searched the perimeter of the clearing. But each time he stepped beyond the clearing and into the woods he would find him self on the opposite side of the clearing.  
He was getting frustrated with the invisible force keeping him from leaving the spot and planted his feet in the middle of the clearing, forcing himself to take a deep breath before unhooking his pack and letting it fall to the ground. He took a drink from his canteen and reached for his radio once again—static.

He had to keep his wits about him, but all he could think about was how much sense this whole scenario didn't make. Another drink from his canteen and Tiller was all out of patience. But as he stood the wind grew stronger and ripped through the trees around him. It came to settle in the clearing and rustled the leaves at his feet.

Reminded of an old ghost story from his childhood, Tiller looked about the trees as they fell silent once again. Then he heard the voice, softly at first—he couldn't recognize it. But the second time it called out to him he recognized the plea for help and he jumped to his feet and was pulling on his gear as he ran into the forest—this time he didn't walk back into the clearing...

"I'm sorry ma'am—I think you have me confused with someone else," Martin said as she pulled out of the old woman's grasp.

The old woman clasped her hands in front of her as she spoke, "I haven't confused you with anyone Frances—come warm yourself by the fire while I make some tea."

Looking behind her, looking for the bright sun that had warmed the afternoon, Martin found only the setting sun and a chill in the air. _When did it get dark?_ she thought as she looked into the cottage to see the woman going about in her kitchen.

Martin tried to think straight and thought about making a run for it. But when she really thought about it, she realized that she wasn't afraid. This place and this woman felt safe to her--and that was the only reason she walked inside and closed the door behind her.

The old woman moved gracefully as she returned from the kitchen with a tray of tea and sandwiches. "Now honey, you are going to run your self ragged if you don't rest a little. Come sit down and rest a while." Moving with an elegance about her that Martin had only seen in black and white movies, the old woman set the tray on a small table near the fire place and motioned for Martin to take a seat.

Suddenly exhausted, Martin took the woman's advice. Unlatching her vest, she pulled the straps from her shoulders and waist and dropped her gear behind the couch before sitting across from the woman. She already felt 10 pounds lighter.

In the firelight, she could see the woman's features better. Her long gray hair was pulled into a bun at the base of her neck, pearl studs were the only jewelry decorating her, and a soft ivory shawl hugged her shoulders as she sat in a rocking chair across from Martin.

The woman leaned forward and held out a cup for Martin as she spoke, "Frances, is everything alright?" she asked.

Taking the cup, Martin's forehead wrinkled. "Is everything alright?" She repeated. She couldn't help but laugh at the woman's question—it was as though she were asking how her workday had gone. Smiling through her confusion, Martin tried to seem as friendly as possible. "Who are you?" she asked bluntly.

The woman sat back in her chair and nodded slowly. "I'm Grandma Aralie of course." She smiled and dismissed the young girl's question as she took a plate from the tray and filled it with small sandwiches, then held it out to Martin.

Taking the plate, Martin shook her head. "You're _my_ Grandmother?"

"Of course not," she smiled and dropped two cubes of sugar in her own cup of tea.

"Then why did you say your name was—"

"Oh honey, when you get to be my age everyone calls you grandma."

Martin sat silently for a moment and tried to rationalize this in her mind but a thick fog had set in her memory and the events of that morning escaped her now—she couldn't even remember what she had for breakfast.

"What is this placed called?" Martin asked, rubbing her temple as the first sign of a headache tightened under skin.

"Drink your tea dear, it'll make you feel better," Aralie said, smiling over the rim of her teacup as she sipped her tea.

Taking the cup in her hand, Martin tried to hold it without the fragile cup slipping from her hands. A few sips later and Martin felt her body growing weak—the effects were quick.

The lights began to dim around her and as Martin slipped into unconsciousness she could hear the old woman singing softly in the distance.

**Chapter 20**

His heart racing, Tiller pounded his boots into the ground as he ran through the trees. Jumping over holes and tree roots, he held his weapon to his chest as he ran—and then he heard the voice again.

"I'm here! DOC? Where are you!" he yelled, bracing his hand against a tree as he fought to catch his breath. He searched the distance for movement but saw nothing. The voice called again, softer, and he picked up the pace as he ran toward the voice that called out to him. The trees became thicker as he ran and soon he slowed down and was forced to climb over the branches as he tried to find the voice that was pleading for help...

Standing on the ridgeline, Connelly looked out over the valley and the castles nearby. "This is going to turn out bad, isn't it, Sir?" Connelly asked as he looked over to his commanding officer.

"It could be worse," Bedard answered.

Glaring now, Connelly made sure not to look too disrespectful. "Sir?" he asked, trying to imagine something worse than losing the Stargate.

Looking through his binoculars again, Bedard searched the valley they had just walked from. "Well, we could be taken prisoner by cannibals—that would suck."

"Oh—well, when you put it that way Sir—I guess it's not that bad," Connelly said, looking back at the castles in the next valley. He was trying to remember when this adventure of theirs turned into a scavenger hunt for the stargate. All he could remember was the Colonel searching the Tiller and Martin and then he heard the two words that he never wanted to hear from his commanding officer, _Oh shit_. He turned and instantly tensed as Colonel Bedard looked back over his shoulder. "Sir, what is it?"

Bedard took a deep breath before speaking. "Connelly. Tell me what you see," Bedard said, pointing pass the hills.

Silently, Connelly walked up to his side and shook his head. "Nothing, Sir."

Bedard nodded and tried not to believe what he was about to say. "The Stargate Connelly. Where's the Stargate?"

Tiller was exhausted when he finally tripped over a tree root and fell into a tree with his chest slamming against the bark of an over grown tree. He fought against the pain in his chest that begged him for rest—when he heard the voice again.

Stumbling to his feet once again—his ankle burned with pain as he ran through the woods once again towards the voice. The voice grew louder as he ran—he was getting closer.

"Martin!" he yelled as he searched through the bushes around him. "Martin! Where are you?"

As he ran, he came across a large bush that blocked his path and he attempted to jump over it—only to get his feet caught in the branches and come crashing to the ground...

After a moment he sat up and found himself inside the large bush. Darkness surrounded him and he had to flip on his flashlight to see that his legs were tangled in the bush. He pointed the light to the left and saw nothing. As he guided the light to his right—Tiller almost dropped the light as he focused on what laid before him….

After they realized that the gate was gone, Bedard just started walking back to the clearing. Connelly hadn't said a word yet. He didn't know what to say, other than the obvious…

They had already been walking for 15 minutes, but as Connelly looked back at the castles for a glance, he realized something odd…"Sir—" he asked, his voice shaky as he hoped that he was wrong in his observation.

Turning around to see his Lieutenant panic stricken, Colonel Bedard walked back to him and grabbed his vest to get his attention. "Connelly! What's wrong?" he asked as the young man's eyes grew wider with every second.

"Sir…look back at the castles…"

"What of it Connelly?" he asked more persistently.

"Sir—we aren't getting any farther away from them."

Colonel Bedard looked over Connelly's shoulder to the castles. They hadn't gained any distance. "What the hell is going on here?" Bedard yelled as he let go of Connelly's vest and looked back and forth from the castles to where the gate had been. "Something isn't right here—" he grunted, as he stormed off through the hills once again heading to where the gate had last been seen.

"Sir!" Connelly called out.

"WHAT?" he yelled, not turning around as Connelly caught up with him.

"Sir—we've been walking back to the gate for at least a half hour—but we aren't any closer—"

"Your point?" he grunted as he stopped walking long enough for Connelly to catch up with him.

"Maybe we should check out the castles."

"Why?"

"Something is obviously keeping us from going anywhere but where it wants us to go Sir—maybe we should just go with it."

"Maybe we should just GO with it?" he yelled as he turned in a circle and took off his cap. He shook it out for a moment and pulled it back down over his head. "Ya know—this is how people die in horror movies."

"Sir…" he said as Bedard turned and started walking toward the castles.

"We'll do it your way Connelly…but if we get caught by the bad guys it's YOUR FAULT!"

"You found me." She fought to breathe steadily as she spoke but her voice barely carried over the wind in the trees.

Tiller looked in amazement at the young woman before him. She lay adjacent to his feet, her ankles and wrists bound with twine; her uniform was torn from being pulled through the bushes and the countless small cuts all over her body had marked her uniform with her blood. But he was more concerned with the blood on her forehead.

"Martin—what happened?" The bush pulled at his feet as he struggled. With the flip of his utility knife the branches were no longer a restraint.

He moved to her side and took her hands in his as his slipped his knife between her hands and cut the twine from her wrists. Martin lay on the ground, waiting patiently for her freedom. "What happened? Did something grab you?" he asked as he took the twine and tossed it aside.

Martin didn't answer. She only reached for him, seeking the safety of his embrace as soon as her hands were free. He pulled her close and tried to straighten her hair that clumped at the base of her neck. "Doc…" running his hand over her hair he tried to calm her as best he could. He had to get her to talk; he had to know what had happened. "Doc—talk to me." he whispered softly. Her only reply was to pull him closer as her body began to shake. "It's okay…" he said, trying to hold her as tight as he could until she relaxed in his arms and drifted to sleep.As she slept, he lifted her arms to check for injuries. Aside from minor scratches from the bushes, she appeared unharmed. Reaching down to her feet, he cut the twine around ankles and rubbed it between his fingers before tossing it aside. She had struggled against her bindings and blood dried around her ankles where the twine had cut into her skin.

His first priority was getting Doc back to the gate and back to the base. But the woods were dark and unfamiliar. He would have to wait until Doc could move on her own. And in the darkness, he laid down at her side and waited for her to wake.

**Chapter 21**

"I don't believe this," Bedard said as he noticed that they were nearing the castles as Connelly had thought.

"Sir?"

"I feel like I'm stuck in some bad Twilight Zone rip off…"

"Sir—look," Connelly said, as he stopped in his tracks a top a hill that bordered a small river. On the other side of the river two young women walked along the riverbank.

"Well, they don't look dangerous."

"What do you think, Sir?" Connelly asked as he pulled off his sunglasses and looked down at the women.

"Alright—ya know…this it why we have Martin. I'm no ambassador."

"We can start by saying "hi", Sir," Connelly said as Bedard nodded towards a footbridge that led over the river.

"Alright, let's go introduce ourselves."

Martin drifted from her dreams and into the waking world. The fog of sleep lifting slowly as she felt the soft cushioning around her. If she didn't know better, she would say she had been drugged into sleep but as her eyes opened and she focused on her surroundings—she remembered where she had been before drifting off into sleep.

"There you are," the old woman said cheerily from across the room. She sat in her rocking chair as she knitted. Her small feet barely touched the floor as she rocked back and forth. "I was wondering when you were going to wake—guess you needed more sleep than you thought."

"Where am I?" Martin asked. Sitting up on the couch she held her head for a moment and then got to her feet.

"You're safe my dear—don't worry your head about it," she smiled as she spoke, as if to laugh at the situation.

"What did you say?" Her words struck something in Martin and she was awake now—something didn't seem right about this.

"I said don't worry about anything," the woman said, not looking up from her knitting needles.

"Where are my friends?"

"They are fine…should be here soon."

"They are coming here?"

"Of course," the woman said as though this was information Martin should have known. "You didn't think they'd leave you behind did you?"

"Well…considering my track record—it wouldn't surprise me." She had to smile at her own comment. In truth, she knew they wouldn't leave her but a part of her still thought that they cared nothing for her beyond her abilities.

"Ah yes…well, I'm sure Lieutenant Connelly has forgotten all about that little slip of yours. Don't worry about it honey—you'll get the hang of things soon enough."

Martin's heart-beat tripled in the three seconds it took her to register what the woman had just said. How could she possibly know about her shooting Lieutenant Connelly?

"Who are you?" Martin asked as all weariness left her body and she stood from the couch with fear in her eyes.

"I told you honey, everyone calls me Grandma." She smiled softly as she spoke, only looking up to Martin when she noticed that she began to walk back to the door. "Now, now—take a seat and let your body rest a little longer. You'll need your strength."

"I'll need my strength? For what exactly?" she asked, her back now inches from the door—she could run from the house if she acted now. The old woman would never be able to catch her.

"I wouldn't be so hasty to leave, Frances." The woman said as Martin opened the door.

"Why is that?" she asked. Turning into the open doorway she stopped dead in her tracks as she saw the scene that lay before her. The green grass and beautiful skies that had been there before were now replaced with a blank canvas. Darkness lay beyond the front step as though the world had disappeared entirely and nothing existed but the house. Her choice was clear— she closed the door and turned back to the old woman who still sat in the rocking chair knitting.

"Now, I made you a lovely sandwich, it's on the counter in the kitchen—that is if you're hungry yet." She smiled with an all-knowing sense about her that was familiar to Martin. She ran the events through her mind and concluded that at the moment she was in no danger—besides, she was starving...

"Martin…wake up…" Tiller whispered. His fingers brushing away the hair from her face as her eyes opened. "There you are."

"Tiller?" Her voice quivered as she spoke. Pulling her arms from their resting place on his chest, she moved away from the warmth of him.

"Yeah, it's me. Are you alright?"

"I think so."

"What do you remember?"

She sat up-right and Tiller rose and let her shoulder press into his chest for stability. "I was walking through the woods and…my feet were caught on something. I tripped and…then…something was pulling me. I screamed for you to help me…but it moved so fast…I couldn't see where it was taking me. And then—it let me go, and you found me."

"It's alright…it's alright." He tried to comfort her as she fell into his chest once again seeking safety from the terror that gripped her soul from within.

"I couldn't see it!" she cried. "But, the sounds…the way it breathed…"

"Hey…come on…" Pulling her into his arms, she sat like a child across his lap as he enveloped her in his arms. "It's going to be fine—we'll meet back with the Colonel and the Lieutenant and before you know it you'll be romping around the base in you slippers again." He smiled at the memory of her in her pajamas and those slippers.

"You remember my slippers?" She smiled through her embarrassment—why would he remember such a small insignificant detail?

"I remember everything," he whispered as she met his eyes with her own. It was only a second that their eyes met before their lips followed the example.

Her lips were as he remembered, soft and smooth as they melded with his own. His fingers found their place in her hair once again as he pulled her closer into his embrace…

"General O'Neill?" Walter was dreading this report, he wanted to wait until his shift end—then it would be Sergeant Wilkins that would have to give the report.

Beyond the doorway in front of him, General O'Neill sat at his desk—as he had done for the last two days.

"Is it good news Walter?" He spoke without looking up from the paper on his desk. A mixture of rage and helplessness ran through his veins and fed the cold-hearted soldier within him. He had never stood by and let this happen before, and it was killing him to stand by while his own people were stranded off world.

"It was the same Sir. The MALP—"

"WALTER!" he voice echoed through the halls like thunder as his fist came crashing down onto his desk.

With a nod of his head Walter left the doorway.

O'Neill had crossed the line—and he knew it. He shouldn't have yelled at Walter. He should have more control over his emotions than this—why was it so hard to keep his rage in check?

"Sir?" The female voice was familiar and he didn't even look up before responding to the one word she had to say to say everything she was thinking.

"Not now Carter," he grunted as he pushed the papers on his desk into a stack and stuffed them into a file.

"Sir—"

"Carter—" He looked up this time, seeing the determination in her eyes as she walked into the office and closed the door behind her.

"I know…" His voice was softer now as the tension in his body faded. All he had ever needed was her presence to ease his tempers. Had she known this all these years? Is that why she was here? Is that why she was now sitting across from him silently staring into him eyes, giving him the strength he needed to work through this? His nerves calmed settled and he took a deep breath before attempting to speak. "It's been four days Carter—four days and no word from them...if Frank was able to make contact, he would have done it by now."


	2. Chapter 2

SG-4

The Space Between

Chapter Five

The sun's heat was beginning to burn into Colonel Bedard's neck as he and Connelly crossed the footbridge leading to an open field behind the castles they had seen from the hillside. Now Connelly could see that they were walking up behind whatever settlement there was. Bisecting the valley was a wide river that reminded Colonel Bedard of his fishing days with his Grandfather back in West Virginia. A sturdy wooden bridge led their way across and both men headed for it without a word, until Lieutenant Connelly stopped. The ladies had seen them and were smiling cautiously, waiting to see if they would cross the bridge.

"Sir?" Connelly asked.

"What?"

"Aren't you going to say something?"

"Of course I am," Bedard said, taking the first step in crossing the bridge as he waved at the ladies. They eased a bit and moved to the end of the bridge to greet them. "Hello there," Colonel Bedard said, trying to put on his best nice guy impression.

The first woman, slightly older than the second, took a few steps onto the bridge and smiled warmly. Her features were soft and elegant, and yet her clothes were that of a peasant from King Arthur's court. Bedard stopped a few feet from her and was drawn to her eyes instantly. It wasn't until Connelly joined him that he began to speak again.

"Hello, My name is Frank Bedard, we came through the Stargate—"

As he spoke, the woman stepped forward and gently placed her hand on Colonel Bedard's chest. Bedard's voice trailed off and he was lost in her eyes again. "I know who you are Franklin," she said, letting her hand slip from his chest as she turned to motion for the second woman to join her. "I trust your journey was pleasant." 

Both men stood in silence. Too shocked to speak up first. Bedard felt carried away by the woman before him and didn't notice the young girl as she approached.

Smiling into Bedard's eyes, the woman spoke again. "I expected you before this. Did you have difficulty finding the bridge?"

Connelly was taken a back by how quickly the Colonel had fallen silent. He decided to regain control of the situation. He began to speak and nudged the colonel's arm with his elbow. "You were expecting us?" Connelly asked as the colonel snapped his eyes to Connelly. Had he missed something?

The first woman smiled at the accusation in Connelly's voice and stepped toward him. Taking his hand in her own she held it softly until Connelly met her eyes with his. "It is alright Charles. We have been anticipating your arrival all day." Again she smiled and straightened her hand to hold Connelly's between them, to shake hands. "My name is Seraphine. Now come, the afternoon meal will be served soon. You must be famished."

Without a word between them, Bedard and Connelly fell into step with the women and headed for the settlement ahead. Bedard's attention was once again on the women who now stood at his side. Her arm entwined with his as they walked. He had to smile. He couldn't remember the last time he had such pleasant company…and with a welcome committee this friendly, what could possibly go wrong?

Chapter Six

It didn't feel right. All he wanted to do was pull her into his arms and kiss her until the end of time—but he knew this wasn't the time or the place, and in a valiant maneuver that his mother would be have proud of, Tiller pulled away and let her rest on the ground as he gained a respectable distance.

"I'm sorry," she said, bracing her arm on the ground as she watched him pull his self together.

"Can you walk?" He pushed the braches away and tried to stand out of the bush.

"You'll have to help." She held out her hand and he pulled her to her feet.

"We need to get back to the gate. We only had five hours to meet back at the gate—Colonel Bedard should be waiting for us by now." As he stood from the bush he saw that night had fallen and shadows consumed the woods. He freed himself from the bush first and picked up Martin to pull her free of the vines and underbrush.

As soon as he set her to the ground, her ankle gave out. She fell into his arms with a painful cry. Tiller was in action within seconds and wasted no time in pulling her up. "Want me to carry you?" he asked, gripping her back so she could find her balance.

"No—I think I can walk…just need a little help balancing." Tiller pulled her into his side and braced his arm around her back. Gripping her side he let her hold tight to his back as they began to walk through the woods.

A few feet into the dense trees and Tiller stopped. The woods had changed—or were it that Tiller hadn't paid attention when he was running through the woods before as he chased after her voice. One thing was for certain; it was definitely easier to walk through the woods at a steady pace than it was chasing after an echo.

"Come on Travis—talk to me…" she said, as she nudged him to continue.

"Travis?" he asked, rather surprised that she used his first name. "I didn't know I told you my first name," he said, as he began to walk again.

"You told me…" she said steadying her self beside him.

"I did?" he asked, absentmindedly as though it really didn't matter, he was just trying to think of something to talk about.

"How else would I know it?"

"We'll head North for now. Try to reach the tree line before we stop again."

"North? We're on an alien planet, what if they don't _have_ a North?"

He smiled. She did have a point, but he wasn't about to get into an argument about the Rosetta Stone's practicality off world. "I'm calling it North…for now."

"Alright. I don't suppose there's a way you could call ahead to the gate and ask them to have a bubble bath waiting for me at the base?"

He wanted to laugh, if only to break the tension of being lost on an alien planet for a moment. But all he could do was shake his head. "I don't think so Doc."

"You remind me of someone," Martin said, looking over to the old woman as she continued to knit in the light of the fireplace. "I can't think of who—but you're familiar."

"Do you want another sandwich, Honey?"

"No thank you." She stared at her knees for a moment and then up at the old women. She was getting impatient and it was time for some answers. "What's going on here?" she asked abruptly.

"What do you mean?" the old woman asked, not skipping a stitch in her kitting.

"Well, first off—I trip out of the woods and wind up here, then this house appears out of no where, somehow you know me and know everything outside of this house has disappeared." She was trying not to let her impatience be taken for rudeness and she waited for a reply.

"I already told you—you shouldn't be walking around here alone. Your friends will be along soon. Just rest and wait for them."

"Am I a prisoner here?"

"No—of course not."

"Am I allowed to leave?"

"If you want to."

"So I can just leave?" She was exasperated with the simple words of the woman. "I can't leave! There's nothing out there!"_  
_  
She set down her kitting now and glared at Martin. "You're yelling at me?"

"I'm sorry—you've been very nice and I don't mean to be rude—but WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?"

The old woman took a long breath and narrowed her eyes before sighing. Silently she set aside her kitting and reached for her teacup. She took a slow sip from the cup and held it in her hands as she spoke. "You are acting like _them_, did you know that? Barking out orders to everyone around you, always assuming the worst of a situation. Listen to your heart Frances, what does it tell you?"

The insult made Martin stop and think for a moment. The old woman was right. "It's telling me to sit down, be quiet and wait. That I will get the answers I want when I need them."

Smiling softly, the old woman spoke. "Ah, that heart of yours is wise. Hearts usually are…they always know what to do. You should listen to yours more often."

Chapter Seven 

Walter Harriman stared down at the glowing console before him and sighed. The gate had been silent for days now. At last count, SG-4 had been missing for five days. No radio contact and the rescue teams hadn't found anything in their searches. Not even the ruins that were originally found with the MALP had been located.

Walter leaned back and reached for his coffee just as the console lit up and the gate began to groan to life as the inner circle began to spin. Pulling himself back to the console he reached for the microphone and gave the warning that always made his heart beat a little faster. "UNSCHEDULED OFF WORLD ACTIVATION." That was all he had to say. Moments later, the command room filled with the senior ranking members of the SGC.

"Who is it Walter?" O'Neill yelled before he was even in the room.

Before answering, Walter squinted at the screen before him. "It's an SG-4 IDC code, Sir, Lieutenant Connelly."

O'Neill ran up behind Walter and gave a quick glance at Carter before giving the order to open the iris.

Walter slid his hand into the iris deactivation device and seconds after the trinnium alloy shield retracted; a disheveled Lieutenant Connelly stumbled onto the ramp.

Reaching around Walter, O'Neill pulled on the microphone. "Connelly, what the hell is going on? Where is the rest of your team?" But there was no answer. Lieutenant Connelly had already passed out onto the ramp.

Three hours later, a groggy Lieutenant twitched his fingers and tried to open his eyes. First he heard sounds. Muffled at best. The first clear voice he heard was the Doctor's.

"Go tell the General that he's waking up. He wanted to be here." The voice was soft and yet, he knew that something must be terribly wrong if he were in the infirmary…and General—he paused. Thought hard for a moment and realized that he couldn't remember his commanding officer's name. He couldn't remember his own name.

"Lieutenant? Can you open your eyes? It's Doctor Smith. Everything is all right; you're in the infirmary. If you can, open your eyes to look at me…" The voice pulled him from the darkness and his eyes slowly drifted open.

As the colors and faces around him sharpened, so did his memory. He recognized the two people standing on either side of him. Doctor Smith, she was nice, although she did have a certain rough exterior and General O'Neill. There was a scowl on his face, he looked upset but he remembered that the look was normal…Connelly…Charles Connelly. His name drifted back into his thoughts and soon words came to his lips.

"That hurt." he said, regaining full use of extremities as he felt the back of his neck.

"Well, you aren't supposed to pass out on the ramp—it's hard," O'Neill said.

"No Sir, I meant the injection…" he had said it before he had even realized that the two people beside him had no idea what has was talking about. If he wasn't careful, and explain what had happened off world—they'd throw him into the nearest sanitarium.

"What injection?" Doctor Smith asked, immediately concerned as she moved the Lieutenants hands and felt the back of his neck.

"The Haldians. They injected me with a sedative before I left. They said it would help with the transition into our dimension." The Doctor's hand froze on his neck and he forgot his plan about carefully explaining what had happened. His eyes drifted to the General's. "I'm not insane, I swear." He reassured. "This is just going to take some time to explain. But first things first, you have to know that the rest of the team isn't in any danger. They are safe…they just haven't made it through the test yet."

General O'Neill was nodding his head as though this were all perfectly normal as he reached behind himself and pulled up a chair. Sitting down, he took a long breath, then crossed his arms over his chest and tried to remain calm as he smiled awkwardly at the younger man before him. "Alright, I want to start at the very beginning. But, before you start I just have one question," he asked.

"Yes, Sir?" Connelly said, attempting to sit up in bed as he spoke but slid back into his pillow as he was greeted with a wave of dizziness.

"Am I going to need Colonel Carter to translate anything you are about to say?"

Connelly tried not to smile at the question. It was a known fact that the general, although highly trained in military proficiency and was an upstanding commanding officer—he was lacking in the scientific areas of the SGC.

A hard swallow and Connelly answered, "It might help things move a little faster, Sir."

O'Neill nodded and looked over to Doctor Smith. But she was already at the phone dialing up Colonel Carter's office.

Chapter Eight

Somewhere between meeting their newest off world friends and walking towards the settlement, the sun had begin to set along the horizon. But Colonel Bedard hadn't even noticed the growing shadows from the trees. He was still captivated by the woman who had walked at his side and held his arm until they had introduced them to the town leader. An older man than Bedard by a few years, grey hair springing out from the sides of his head leaving the top almost shiny. Two beady eyes smiled happily at him and he couldn't help but think of a character from an old movie that had always made him laugh—even if he couldn't remember his name at the moment…he tried not to laugh as he shook the man's hand.

"My name is Norman," he said, pulling Bedard's arm as she reached out with his second to pull in Lieutenant Connelly by the shoulder. "Welcome to our humble city. We have been expecting you for some time. Did you get lost?" he asked, looking to Seraphine. "Did they get lost?" he asked quickly.

She smiled and touched the two men's hands as she separated them. Standing once again at Bedard's side. "No Norman, they are simply on a different time schedule than we are. There's no harm done." Silently, she let her fingers run down into Bedard's hand where she gently pulled him away from Norman. "I'll show you to your rooms. You're no doubt tired from your journey," she said. Again with the grace of a swan, she ushered the two men into directions they should be questioning. But for some reason they weren't. And that thought lingered in the back of Connelly's mind as he followed Seraphine and the Colonel to a small house with a thatched roof.

"You'll have to forgive Norman. He's quite…"

"Exuberant?" Bedard finished for her.

"Yes, that word would suit him perfectly." Letting Connelly catch up to her side, Seraphine opened the door of the small house and let the two men walk in first. "It's not much, but it will help you rest comfortably. Take your ease and I'll return for you shortly. I need to see to a few last minute preparations before evening meal is served." With another soft smile, she was out the door and Connelly and Bedard looked at each other.

Bedard spoke first. "Did I just call another man 'exuberant'?" He asked, as though the word tasted foul in his mouth.

"Yes, Sir. But don't worry—I won't tell anyone."

Martin shifted off the couch and tried to wonder just how long she had been sitting there staring at the floor. It had seemed an eternity already, and the old woman had picked up her knitting again. What ever she was making, it looked much larger now and draped down into her lap.

Tea still sat before her and she reached for a cup. The liquid was sweet in her mouth and she smiled. It tasted just like the tea her Mother use to make her when she was sick. The memory rocked her a moment. It had been such a long time since she had let her self remember her mother, let alone think of a memory like this one. But she could see it as clear as day. She was lying in bed, no doubt a fever and chills had grounded her from playing. Her Mother sat on the edge of her bed, such a soft face and loving smile as she held out the small teacup to her. "Now be careful Frannie, it's a little warm." As she drank, he mother's fingers still balanced the cup from the bottom.

The feel of her mother's hands on her own shook Martin from the dream state she had fallen into and she jumped back on the couch. Looking around her, she almost thought she might see her mother near by. But the warmth of her mother was fleeting and as she glanced over at the old woman, who was already looking back at her, the last shred of warmth and comfort from her dream faded away into the dark corners in the room.

"Are you all right honey?" the old woman asked, setting down her knitting, as she truly seemed concerned.

Martin thought a moment and tried to understand what had just happened. "Uh, yeah. I'm fine, just uhm…need some more tea."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Nine 

Major Carter sat beside Lieutenant Connelly's bedside and nodded her head slowly. Aliens, trying to help by abducting his team…and Connelly was sent back. "Okay, this makes a kind of sense that only makes sense here," she said, looking over at General O'Neill who had long ago lost a grip on their conversation.

"So, Bedard, Tiller and Martin aren't in any danger?" he asked, just to make sure that was the bottom line.

"Yes, Sir, they will be returned just like I was."

"I'm not a very patient man. Especially when aliens decide that it's in the best interest of my people to kidnap them."

"Sir, they aren't hostile. Not in the least, if anything, this is how they get to know new people. In an environment where they can communicate freely, where there's a common ground."

O'Neill waved his hand and the Lieutenant stopped talking. "They've got two hours to send our people back, them I'm sending in SG 3 and so help me, I'll be right beside them blowing the crap out of everything until we find our people." Without warning, he stood and stormed out the room.

Carter glanced at the Lieutenant and followed the General out into the hall. "Sir?" she called out, running up to his side. General O'Neill turned on his heels and nearly knocked Carter over but he caught her by the elbow as he started talking faster than Daniel.

"How many times have we been fooled by these damn aliens that come back looking like one of us?" He asked, not really expecting an answer.

"Sir?"

"We don't know that's Lieutenant Connelly. And until I've got the rest of SG 4 telling me otherwise, he's confined to the infirmary."

"You were calling his bluff? Saying we were going to blow everything up …"

He shrugged his shoulders, "I didn't really think it through…you think it worked?"

"If it's not Lieutenant Connelly, I'm sure you gave him something to think about."

"Good, that was the idea. Now go figure out why we can't get radio signals through…I want someone on the radio in two hours, even if it's static."

Night had fallen and Colonel Bedard welcomed the soft mattress that now cradled his body. One deep breath and his body drifted away into a peaceful dream state. The days events passed over him as he slept; dinner was nothing like what he was used to from nearly thirty years in the military. Women dressed in the old days fashions, dresses whose only purpose were to present the best parts of the women to the man at her side. It set him back a moment that he was in the company of such women--for the only women he had ever known were strong and independent women who wore the same uniform he had come to think of as a second skin. But these women were intoxicating and eased the feel of the room just by entering it. He had never known anyone to be like this, and Seraphine was the most baffling of them all. She seemed to know him. How he liked to be spoken to and introduced. She knew that his skin burned every time her hand rested in the crook of his elbow. That his hair on the back of his neck stood up every time she rested her hand on his shoulder.

All these things, he should be questioning them. He should be questioning a lot of things. Yet here he was, fast asleep in an all too comfortable bed a million miles from home…

The night moon filtered through the breaks in the thick fabric that hung along the doorway and as Seraphine pulled a section back to gaze upon Colonel Bedard, she paused a moment to watch him. She hated to wake him, he looked so peaceful, and she dared not think of how long it had been since he slept like this.

The night moon called to her and she knew it was time…

Bedard's dream broke and his eyes opened slowly. He soon focused on Seraphine as she sat beside him. Her smile was soft and her hand played along his hairline.

"It's time Franklyn. I have kept you far too long. Come, we must go."

Her hand slipped into his and soon he was walking out into the muddy street and out through the gates. "Seraphine, what's going on?"

"Come. This way,"she said, not stopping until they had crossed the bridge. "This is my boundary, but you, you must continue. Over the hills and into the next valley."

Bedard took her by the shoulders and tried to get her to stand still. "Wait a minute, what are you talking about? I can't go anywhere until I get Connelly."

Seraphine smiled and ran her fingers through the short hair on the back of his neck. "I wish I could keep you, but you must go. Your Lieutenant Connelly has already returned, I'm afraid we have caused distress among your superiors and we cannot keep you any longer."

"Connelly's not here? He was asleep in the rack across the room!"

Seraphine's soft hand covered his mouth and she pulled him closer. "Listen to me now, and you will know that I speak the truth. Nothing is as it seems, all this was created for you. And once you leave, you will not be able to return. Lieutenant Connelly was returned shortly after you and your team arrived. You must go now. Your Sergeant and the Doctor will soon arrive at the gate."

"Tiller and Doc? How do you—"

Silencing him with a soft kiss, Seraphine said her last goodbye. "I'm sorry I could not keep you longer. I will miss you.

Closing his eyes as their lips met, her words echoed in the wind as his eyes opened as he saw nothing but the night around him. The bridge and the town had vanished. He turned for the hills, glancing over his shoulder to make sure it was really gone, then began the hike over the hills. As he neared the top of the last hill, he saw a soft glow coming from the valley below…the Stargate was waiting for him.

Unable to sleep, Tiller watched as the firelight died into ashes. Martin had long since fallen asleep. He watched her through the soft flames and remembered how he had met her. She was anything but professional, not that she was now, but he remembered wanting to ditch her. To leave her anywhere he could drop her. And then the cave in, he had saved her and she had saved him. Was this how it was going to be? Going back and forth, saving one another from themselves.

"Can't sleep?" Doc asked, breaking Tiller from his train of thought.

"What?" he asked, not realizing that she was awake.

"Can't sleep?"

He sat up at once and poked at the fire with a stick. "Just keeping an eye out. You uh, should go back to sleep."

"I think I'm awake now," she said, sitting up. Pulling her knees into her chest she looked over the fire at him and smiled. "You look rough."

"Yeah, having to run around the forest on an alien planet will do that do ya. How's the leg?" he asked, suddenly noticing that she wasn't favoring her injury anymore.

"Better I think."

"Good, still dizzy?"

"No, I think I'm all right," she said standing.

"No, sit back down. I don't want you walking around and getting lost again."

Turning on him, Martin backed away from the fire. "Don't talk to me like I'm a child Travis."

Shaking his head, Tiller jumped to his feet. "Excuse me?"

"I'm sick of this, you treat me like I'm your little sister. I'm a part of the team just like you are!"

"I know that," he said, trying not to sound too patronizing. "What is this about?"

"Travis, don't act like you don't know. I've got half a mind to leave you here!"

"Why do you keep calling me Travis?"

"Oh, what? You want me to call you Sergeant all the time?"

Shaking his head, Tiller tried to get a grip on the situation. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"The same thing, always the same. I bet you made Gibson call you by your rank too!"

"Gibson?" he asked, filtering through his memory until he matched the face with the name. "How the hell do you know about him?"

"So cut off, no wonder you're always alone!"

"Now, just wait a damn minute. Stop yelling for a minute and talk to me!"

"It's useless, you're useless," she said, turning back into the woods as she took off running.

Tiller was shocked and it took him a moment to follow her into the trees. "DOC! DOC!" he screamed as he dodged branches and mud puddles. Stopping at the base of a larger tree, he tried to listen for her footsteps, but heard nothing. "What the hell?" he asked. Suddenly, a soft light broke through the tree line up ahead. Pushing off from the tree, Tiller headed for the tree line.

No sooner than he began to walk for the light, it began to grow brighter. Until he stood at the edge of the trees and looked down into the valley below where a small cottage sat all by itself. He stopped for a moment and stared at the welcoming site, then looked back to the trees—only to see a vast field behind him.

"Of course," he said, turning back to the cottage. "Okay…I can take a hint." He started walking fast and soon he was on the doorstep, but before he could knock on the front door, an old woman opened the door and smiled at him.

"Hello Travis, I've been waiting for you…and so has she," she said, stepping aside so he could see Doc asleep on the sofa inside.

"What did you do to her?" he asked, pushing past the woman as he leaned over Doc.

"She's been safe, I kept her for you. Knew you'd show up when you were ready."

He didn't respond to the old woman that stood at the doorway.

Pulling her up by her shoulders, Tiller pushed the hair out of Doc's face as she slowly woke. "Tiller?" she asked, sleepily.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked, steadying her as she stood.

"Yeah, how'd you get here?"

"I was chasing you, then I found this place."

"You were chasing me?"

"Long story."

The old woman stepped from the doorway and stood behind the sofa. "It's time. You should head for the Stargate," she said.

Tiller glanced at the old woman and looked back at Doc. "Who is she?"

Doc smiled at the old woman, "That's Grandma Yoda."

"Well, can Grandma show us the way home?"

"Just through the door young man."

Doc shook her head, "I already tried that. There's nothing out there but—" Tiller pulled the door open and let Doc see the valley outside. "Oh, well of course it's there now."

"Well, why don't we get going? Stuff around here likes to disappear."

"Sounds good to me," she said, pulling up her gear from the floor. Tiller crossed the room to help her fasten her vest and pack then guided her over to the door.

Doc turned to say goodbye to the old woman, but she was not there. The room was empty.

"Come on Doc, we've got to find the Colonel."

Still looking into the empty room, Doc backed out the front door then turned to follow Tiller. They had walked several feet from the porch when Doc turned and saw that the whole cottage had now disappeared. Then Tiller grabbed her arm.

"Doc, check that out." He said, pointing to the Stargate ahead of them. The wormhole was already activated and the shimmering pool glowed in the night like a beacon guiding them home. "Ya know, I'm not even going to ask how it got there or where the cottage went. Let's just get home."

Doc's mouth dropped open when she saw the Stargate, but Tiller didn't want to ask questions and without a word he pulled Doc by the arm until they were standing at the base of the Stargate.

"Sergeant Tiller? Doctor Martin?" Colonel Bedard's voice called out. He was walking toward them from the far side of the gate.

"Colonel?" Tiller asked, seeing that Lieutenant Connelly wasn't with him. "Sir, where's Lieutenant—"

"No questions Sergeant. Get through the gate and I'll explain everything when we get home!" He was running now, and Tiller wasted no time in pulling Doc through the event horizon with him.

Sergeant Walter Harriman drummed his fingers on the small space between the iris activation panel and the keyboard covered in Stargate symbols. The panel to his left lit up and the gate spun to life in an instant. Walter nearly jumped out of his seat as he grabbed for the microphone and announced, "UNSCHEDUALED OFF WORLD ACTIVATION". General O'Neill ran into the command room with Carter on his heels.

"Walter?" he asked.

"Sir, it's Colonel Bedard's IDC code."

"Open the iris!" he yelled as he ran down to the gate room. Carter followed.

Walter watched the gate and two familiar faces stepped through the gate together, followed by a third. Sergeant Tiller and Doctor Martin, followed by Colonel Bedard.

"Frank?" O'Neill yelled as he stopped at the end of the ramp.

Colonel Bedard began to speak but Doc passed out in front of him and before he could catch her, Sergeant Tiller hit the deck beside him. As much as he tried, Bedard couldn't hold Doctor Martin and he too fell unconscious on the ramp.

Carter turned back to yell at Walter, "Get a medical team in here!"

O'Neill ran up the ramp and pulled at Colonel Bedard until he was lying on his back. "Frank? Come on buddy."

"Sir, I'm pretty sure we can expect the same as Lieutenant Connelly." Carter said, kneeling by Doctor Martin as she laid her on her back.

"Right," O'Neill said, standing back as the medical team rushed in.

Chapter Ten 

Before she even opened her eyes, Martin's forehead scrunched in the middle. "Hey sleepy head." The voice was familiar, and as her eyes blinked open she saw Sergeant Tiller lying in the bed next to her. "What's up Doc?" he asked.

Laying her head back into her pillow, Martin sighed. "Funny, very funny."

Three hours later, Colonel Bedard and his team were released from the infirmary. Bedard noticed that Doctor Smith seemed irritated that aside from Lieutenant Connelly, not one of the members of SG4 could remember any of their time off world…

"I don't get it," Martin said, cradling a cup of coffee in her hands. "General O'Neill said we were gone for days... but I swear the last thing I remember is walking through the gate."

Tiller set his cup down on the commissary table and tried to think before he spoke. "I don't know what to tell you Doc. It was like we stepped through and wound up in the infirmary."

Martin drank the last sip in her cup and looked around for the coffee tray. "I need a refill, you?"

"Nah, I'm tapped," he said.

Martin passed through the empty commissary and brought the coffee pot back to the table. "And of course, amnesia and all, we're set for another mission next week."

Tiller nodded, he was actually looking forward to getting back to work. "It'll be good for ya, can't let one little mission mishap set you back—"

"One little mission mishap?" she asked, remembering her last two trips off world. "Have you suddenly forgotten my rap sheet? Shooting the Lieutenant…causing a cave in…oh yeah, getting me back out there is just what I need."

Tiller glared at her, the tone of her voice was annoying him. His Marines didn't give up, he never let them, but she wasn't a Marine. "Don't do that," he said, angrily.

His tone caught Martin's attention and she sat a little straighter in her seat, "Do what?"

"I don't mean to be hard on you, I know this isn't what you signed up for. But, you can't…you can't just give up when it gets hard. That's what makes this job worth fighting for. If you need to lean on someone to get through the initial shock, that's what your team mates are for…but don't just walk away and give up because you think it's going badly."

Realizing how she must have sounded, Martin's eyes softened. "I'm sorry. That's not what I meant. I don't want to give up, I want to be here, I want to hear Colonel Bedard sigh every time I say something. I can't tell if it's because he doesn't understand or if, to him, I just sound stupid…and Lieutenant Connelly, he ignores me right into the ground, but he only does it because I probably remind him of his sister. And you…I think you might be my best friend these days…" she smiled for the first time since leaving the infirmary and almost started laughing, she tried to keep it in.

"Something funny?" Tiller asked, as he smiled. He couldn't help but be amused at how quickly she could change her whole attitude, just a moment before he thought she might cry.

"I'm sorry, I was just thinking…we've only been doing this for a little over a month and look at what we've dealt with…I can only imagine what Daniel and his team have come across. They could probably write a book."

"Not that anyone could read it."

Martin nodded, "True. Top-secret silliness. Is that punishable by death?"

Tiller tried not to laugh, "It depends…on what you spill, I guess."

"Right."

Silence fell across the table. Neither one of them knew what to say beyond simple conversation. The missing days had Tiller off balance and he could only imagine what Doc was feeling.

"Let's call it a night. We've got a few days before we start this insanity all over again…try to get some sleep." Standing from the table, he left the room. Leaving Martin holding her coffee cup as she stared after him down the hall.

Her mouth gaped open and she looked back to the orderly cleaning tables behind her, "What just happened?"

Out in the hall, Tiller tightened his fists at his sides as he walked to his room. He tried not to think about the war being raged in his mind. He couldn't put his finger on it but every time he had looked at Martin since they woke up in the infirmary, he had s feeling. A terrible feeling that had twisted his insides. He couldn't explain it, couldn't understand it. And at the moment it was all he could do to ignore it…and with their next mission only days away, he didn't have time to play around with his own inner demons.


End file.
